


Armor

by DaydreamersMedicine



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Out of Character, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 03:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8694391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaydreamersMedicine/pseuds/DaydreamersMedicine
Summary: She knew what had happened, heck she even remembered some of the foggy events that lead up to her getting spaced out of the original Normandy. But...on some level, she hadn't truly believed she had died. Some part of her refused to fully accept that fact. It's only now that the chinks in her armor start to show.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this while playing ME3 all those years ago, and it's getting posted today after collecting dust in my hard drive. I have no other justification for this work aside from a whim and my usual desire to write angst-filled fanfiction.   
> Colonist/Sole Survivor Angst-and-Trauma-Ridden Paragon Female Shepard.

 

            They had told her she was medically dead. But stuff like that happened to people, they could be brought back with quick enough intervention. But...on some level, she hadn't actually believed she had died. Some part of her refused to fully accept that fact.

            Until now. Now, the irrefutable proof sat before her. In these files. She watched security footage in the very room where they had done surgery on a pile of shattered bones and torn and shredded muscle tissue.

            That wasn't her...it couldn't be...

            She was alive right now...wasn't she?

            But there's no way anyone could consider...that... salvageable. It didn't even look like a person anymore the body had been so warped and decayed by exposure to the vacuum of space.

            Her breath came in faster.

            She looked down at herself. She knew they had used cybernetic implants, but what if there was so much more they hadn't told her? What if she wasn't herself anymore? What if she was just a robot, a VI, a clone, just thinking she was Shepard. What if she was something...worse?

            The room in front of her blurred.

            "Shepard?!" Someone caught her shoulder as the room began to twist and turn under her.

            ...Who was she? ... _What_ was she?

            Nobody could live though that. That...that on the table...wasn't alive. Couldn't be alive. They pried a piece of twisted metal from the gore.

            N7 armor.

            Something clattered to the ground. Her gun. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking... She couldn't breathe, no matter how much air she forced down her lungs she couldn't breathe, couldn't catch her breath at all. 

            She fumbled with the seals of her helmet and took it off, her hands trembling. It dropped to the floor. She needed air. That was all. This was all just...stress or something. She just needed to take a step back, that...was...all... She tried to gasp, but she felt as if she couldn't get enough oxygen down her lungs fast enough. Her hyperventilating made her head feel light. She was going crazy, right? She had to be. There was no way this was real, there was no way this was supposed to happen.

            "Shepard..." The same voice. A hand on her back, lowering her to the ground to lean on a wall. The room was swimming in blurry color in front of her.

            "No..." She said breathlessly. That wasn't her. It couldn't be her. ...She had been _dead_... What had come after she had died? She couldn't remember it. Who was she? A dead person can't come back to life. Everyone knew that. It was impossible. What was she? She couldn't be Shepard. Shepard was on the table in that vid footage. If Shepard was dead, then who the hell was she?!

            If she ripped open her wrists would there be flesh and blood...or wires? She had tried for so long to resist answering that question. 

            Harsh, shaking gasps came from her irregularly. She felt arms wrap around her, Kaidan. He was holding her. She turned her face into the hard plates of his chest armor, and screamed.

            His hand came up to stroke her hair in a soothing, rhythmic fashion, while his other arm held her against him to keep her from thrashing around, as well as to comfort her.

            "No..." She said between her gasps for air, for once she couldn't stop her emotions from coming out. She couldn't put up a strong front anymore. She always had to be brave. Always had to be in charge. Always had to be sure. Always... _always_... she couldn't break down like this. She wasn't allowed to, she couldn't allow herself to. People relied on her to be strong! The more she tried to convince herself, the more the sobbing gasps forced their way out of her throat.

            She had died.

            She had died, but there was never any time to deal with it, to think about it, to talk about it. She had been pushed into the fight from the instant she could move again.

            She could still remember, the panic, and the pain, the regret, and the darkness. She was alone, her body was being torn apart and smashed together in the same instant. A sort of phantom pain echoed through her. Her blood was boiling in her veins. There had been pain, fear, doubt. Nothing quiet or noble about it. It was messy, painful, terrifying, to feel her own consciousness slip away, knowing she would never wake up.

            She had died, and she had died alone, without reason or purpose. Just cold, pain, and darkness wrapping around her, pressing in on her.

            She screamed again, her voice hoarse. Kaidan held her tighter, as if he could grab her tightly enough to pull her from the circling thoughts the same way she had thrown him from the Protheian Beacon three years ago.

            "Shh...Shh...Shh..." He sighed softly each time he stroked her head. He couldn't find any comforting words, but he held her. She was grieving for everything she hadn't been allowed to grieve for the past three years. For the galaxy and the people in it falling apart around her. For every single time she had forbid herself to cry. In the nights when painful memories of Akuze and Mindoir would surface. When she couldn't even save the people she cared for around her, much less everyone else. When the burden of the trust the galaxy had put in her was too great to bear...

            Her screaming gave way to subdued sobs and shuddering gasps. "I...can't...I shouldn't be..." She gasped. Kaidan wiped the tears off her cheek with his thumb.

            "You're allowed to cry." He whispered. "Shepard, it's okay." She threw her arms around him. "It's okay..." He sighed into her hair. A sound came from her and she pressed her body closer to his, her hands curling into fists that held his shoulders as if he was the only thing that was real. Kaidan wrapped his arms around his commander, his friend, his lover. She took long trembling breaths, breathing in his familiar scent. He continued to hold her until she stopped shaking.

            Kaidan looked up and met EDI's silver eyes while Shepard continued to regain her dignity. The A.I. nodded once and turned away to give them privacy. EDI understood Shepard and Kaidan's relationship, and she respected them both enough not to intrude.

            "Jane, look at me..." Her bloodshot eyes finally raised to meet his. Tears had finally fought their way out of her eyes and were rolling down her cheeks and off her chin and nose. Seeing her like this nearly broke his heart, he had never seen Shepard cry, except when she was in the throes of a nightmare. He knew she did cry, her eyes were red after locking herself in her room after Virmire, and he suspected a few other times, but she had never allowed herself to break down in front of anyone.

            "What...What if I'm..." She took a deep breath. "What if I'm not... _me?_ What if I'm some sort of VI or...or..."

            "You're not."

            "How...? How do you know?" 

            "You feel the same as you did before Ilos, warm, loving, brave, and the strongest woman in the entire galaxy." A weak smile found its way through her grief-stricken expression. "No program can recreate what you've done or who you are. No matter how many wires and titanium-laced bones you have, it's still you inside." She closed her eyes in defeat, still trying to come to terms with what she now knew. "It has to be, how else could you have gotten this far?"

            "It's just....I guess I never really believed it myself...that I...died..." Her voice dropped at the last word.

            "I'm sorry..."

            "I never let myself think too hard about it, or find out what exactly they put me back together with. There's a war on, and I was brought back for a reason..." She buried her face again. "I've been having so many nightmares, I can't even close my eyes without seeing Earth, the Reapers and all the people I can't save burning alive behind my eyes!"  It all came spilling out after that. Her traumas went ignored because the galaxy needed a hero, and she wasn't allowed to complain when millions were being slaughtered in front of her. Somehow, Kaidan understood this was the side of herself that Shepard always hid from everyone. He could almost imagine the bloodstained little girl from Mindoir in her broken voice and in the tears she had refused for so long.

            "You're going to be alright... It's okay..." A sharp shudder passed through her. Every reassuring, loving, caring word brought forth vulnerabilities she thought she had buried too deep to ever resurface.

            "I love you..." She finally whispered against his chest. Not 'I care about you' or 'I'm glad you're here' or any of her other lines, but the real deal. Kaidan had never pushed her to say it, he knew it was true. It had been so long since she allowed anyone close to her, and admitting that was still scary. "I love you." She said it again, as if confirming it to herself, and to him. "I never have—and never will—have someone who...who can... make me feel...like a person again." She rubbed her eyes and pushed away from him, trying to get her bearings. "I haven't been able to cry since...I came back." She explained. Then, she kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you..." All the proof she needed of her remaining humanity was in her tears, and her red face. It was in the feeling in her chest, like she was about to burst and collapse in the same moment. She finally allowed herself to accept with what had happened to her two years ago.

            Her tears dried up and she replaced her metaphorical armor, torn down by her confusion and grief since being brought back, and rebuilt anew by the reassurance her friends and loved ones had given her. She could face them again, she could face herself again. She knew who she was, and in that moment, she realized what she had to do. This war had begun with her discovery of the Reapers, and she would see it through.

            It was time to end this, once and for all.


End file.
